


Weekday Nights

by jjaeniel



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mark is Spiderman!!!, lots of flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 04:17:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20186131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjaeniel/pseuds/jjaeniel
Summary: The first time Mark sees him, he's mid-swing between buildings and dangerously close to a lot of traffic.





	Weekday Nights

**Author's Note:**

> heellooo!!! i am back ! working on a few things atm but this is the first thing i managed to finish and im super proud of it :D always love a good mark-as-spidey agenda ... enjoy!!!

The first time Mark sees him, he's mid-swing between buildings and dangerously close to a lot of traffic. It's not unusual for him to people watch while trapezing through the city, always trusting his spidey-senses to alert him to any immediate danger. He had to look out for crime anyway, right?

The boy is tall, looks around the same height as Mark from up here. He’s leaning against a building while talking animatedly on the phone, and then Mark sees it. 

His fucking _ smile _. 

Needless to say, in the split second between seeing this stranger’s smile and swinging from building to building, Mark slams directly into the back of a moving box truck and rolls over the hood of a taxi. _ So much for spidey-senses, _ he thinks _ . _

Smiley boy looks up, eyes wide and mouth open, paused mid sentence. Mark only knows this because _ despite _absolutely eating it on the back of a truck ten seconds prior, his eyes have not left the boy. Mark is pretty sure if it was possible, there'd be hearts floating above his head at this point. 

The owner of the taxi is yelling at him, telling him to get the _ fuck off his car, now, immediately, thank you, _and Mark hops down onto the street, apologizing profusely with shakes of his hands and small bows of courtesy. A few people on the sidewalk have stopped to watch, and he’s absolutely positive his crash is going to end up viral on Youtube by tomorrow. 

“Spiderman’s alright, guys! Keep walking! I’m fine!” Mark calls out, waving to a small kid in the process and effectively making him cry. _ Amazing. He can see the headlines now: Spiderman makes a kid cry?!? _ He almost, _ almost _ forgets about the entire reason he crashed in the first place, if not for the hasty _ ‘I’ll call you back,’ _ he hears and the clearing of a throat. He looks up sharply, mentally cataloging the way the boy talks, and almost swoons when he realizes just how _ handsome _ he is

“Are you alright?” he says, and Mark is convinced he’s turned into goo and is melted right onto the city street. When there's no reply from Mark, the boy tries again. “You hit that truck pretty hard. Hard enough to dent, I think.”

Mark snaps back to himself after staring at the boy’s _ perfect face honestly it's not fair-, _trying to remember how to communicate. “I’m- I- Yes. Yes I am okay. Not concussed, probably. I’m fine! I could probably still do a backflip right now,” Mark says, nodding along to his own words. He knows he’s rambling, but he quite physically cannot stop. 

The boy laughs, loud and bright and _ so fucking cute, holy shit how can a boy be so cute, _ hands shifting to his pockets. “You sure about that?” he says, smile verging dangerously into smirk territory, and _ oh god is this flirting? _

“You're very bold, flirting with Spiderman on the street where anyone can see,” Mark says before his brain can catch up to his mouth, and he immediately slaps a hand over it. “I- oh my god,” he says, voice muffled behind his palm. He needs to leave, _now. _“I- um, gotta go now, okay! Bye!” Mark rushes out, before promptly attaching himself to the nearest building and _swinging the fuck away_. 

He was so, _ so _screwed. 

+

The second time Mark sees him, he's out with Donghyuck and distinctly _not Spiderman. _

They're at a coffee shop that's, in Mark’s opinion, _ way _ too overpriced, but he digresses. They're tucked into a back table, almost a miracle that they got one at this hour in this part of the city. Donghyuck is going on about some guy from his college who won't leave him alone, and Mark is pretending to listen, chin tucked into his palm. 

That's when _ he _ walks in. _ Him, _ smiley boy from the day Mark crashed and almost broke his face, day before he became a national _ meme (fuck Twitter, honestly). _

His chin slips from its perch on his hand, limb in question slamming hard into the table and effectively cutting off whatever Donghyuck was saying. A bit of coffee splashes over his cup and onto the table. Donghyuck stares at him, letting out an incredulous _ what the fuck, Mark? _ and Mark completely ignores him. 

He's _ here. _ In Mark’s vicinity. They're in a city with a population of 1.6 _ fucking million, _ and Mark’s _ handsome _ , _ cute, smiley boy _is here in this coffee shop, on line waiting to order. It's fate. In a split second, Mark’s decided they're meant to be together, ride off into sunsets on pretty white horses on beaches, have three perfect kids-

“_Mark,” _ Donghyuck hisses out, sounding distinctly annoyed, effectively stopping his train of thought in its tracks. 

His eyes snap back to Donghyuck, away from his perfect, perfect boy, and he huffs. “Yes?” he says, slightly annoyed, but only _ slightly _ (because he knows Donghyuck will not _ hesitate _ to smack him upside the head for being annoyed with him). 

“What the fuck?” he says again, raising his eyebrows. 

“Remember that guy I was telling you about, from when I was doing,” Mark stops to look around, head ducking low and voice dropping to a whisper, “Spiderman things,” his voice raises again, “The one who was like, maybe flirting with me?”

“Uh, yeah?” he responds, obviously not picking up on where Mark was going with this. He's glad the glamor of him being Spiderman has worn off for Donghyuck now, to the point where Mark can casually mention it and he doesn't feel a need to say ‘_ So like, a radioactive spider, huh?’ _or something equally as curious. 

“He's-” Mark points to a spot behind Donghyuck’s shoulder instead of saying it, biting his lip. The boy is waiting for his drink now, scrolling through something on his phone and looking as beautiful as ever. Mark holds back a swoon. 

Donghyuck looks behind him, thankfully not making it extremely obvious as he can tend to do, and looks back to him. “Disney prince guy?” he asks, head cocking to the side in question. 

“Disney prince guy,” Mark sighs out, chin returning to its place on his palm and feeling like, for all intents and purposes, his pupils have turned to hearts. Donghyuck rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to say something. 

The barista chooses that moment to call out a name -_ ”Jaemin?” _ \- and Mark’s perfect boy looks up, smiles, and accepts the drink with a _ thank you! _ He's even _ polite. _Mark swoons for real. Anything Donghyuck said is lost to him. 

That's when it hits him. 

He knows smiley man-Disney prince guy’s name now. 

_ Jaemin. _ How fucking… _ cute. _

“_Mark,” _ Donghyuck hisses out for the second time that day, annoyance lacing his voice _ again. _ Mark knows he wasn't listening (again) but he thinks it's _ kind of _dramatic. His eyes move to Donghyuck anyway, giving him his attention before he gets well and truly mad. “Why don't you go like, talk to him,” he no doubt repeats, raising an eyebrow. 

Mark sputters, letting out an incredulous _ “I can't just… talk to him!” _ and Donghyuck gives him another look. He tries to argue for a few more seconds before giving up, sighing in defeat and getting up when Donghyuck doesn't budge. 

It's easy, Mark convinces himself. Get up, walk over, introduce yourself, _ don't embarrass yourself by asking for possible future kid names. _

By the time he's halfway across the cafe, he looks up and Jaemin is gone. Just- _ gone. _ Mark stands in shock for a second, mentally processing how he can just be gone like that. They were about to have a _ moment, _ universe, thank you very _ much. _

By the time he turns around, someone has stolen his seat like Donghyuck _ isn't _sitting at the table, and he groans. 

City people had no _ fucking _respect, apparently. 

+

At this point, Mark is convinced the universe is playing a sick, _ sick _joke on him. 

He's in the middle of doing _very important _friendly neighborhood Spiderman things (like saving a little girl’s cat from a tree in the park), when he hears <strike>his smiley boy Disney prince guy’s</strike> _Jaemin’s_ voice. Mark immediately freezes where he is in the tree, head whipping around to try and find where he is. He spots him easily, sprawled out on the grass like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He's all long legs and absolutely _glowing_ in the sun and it's not _fair. _

“Um, Spiderman, sir?” the little girl says when Mark’s been up there just _ staring _ for a few minutes, head cocking to the side. “Do you see my cat?”

Mark startles, snapping back to what he was doing in a flash and reaching over for this poor girl’s cat, who quite frankly looks absolutely _ pissed_, and oh _ good _ it's hissing. Hissing and _ scratching. _ He sighs heavily, grabbing the cat despite it trying to claw his eyes out, and jumps out of the tree using his webs to soften the fall. He hands the cat over to the girl and it immediately settles, purring like it _ wasn't _ a killing machine four seconds ago. _ Delightful. _

He smiles under the mask when she thanks him, even though she can't see (force of habit) and goes to leave. 

Or tries to, until he hears a _ “yo, Spiderman!” _ from none other than Jaemin, and freezes. “I know you heard me!” he says again, when Mark tries to leave in fear of embarrassing himself again. 

Mark walks over, counting his breaths in his head and just focusing on _ not _ being a nightmare in front of this boy again. “Yes, sir?” he manages to get out, and cringes immediately. He really said _ sir. _

“Sir?” Jaemin responds with a smirk, amusement lacing his voice. He's still spread out on the grass, elbow underneath him. “I thought we were closer than that, Spidey. I _ flirted _with you, remember?” 

Mark has never been so glad for a mask in his life, as he feels a blush spread over his cheeks and up onto his ears. He sputters, trying to look everywhere but _ at _ Jaemin. “Look, I’m sorry! Sometimes my brain to mouth filter just,” Mark waves his hand, “and i say stupid stuff. I didn't mean to offend, really!”

“Offend? You've hardly offended me, babe,” Jaemin responds, smirk only growing. He looks almost _ smug_, and Mark thinks his brain has effectively shut down and rebooted three times in the past ten seconds. 

Mark stares, mouth opening and closing a few times before he manages to choke out a _ “What?”_, voice cracking halfway through the word. He ignores Jaemin’s snort of amusement. “Did you just babe _ Spiderman?” _ he finally says, head looping that one word like it's the only thing he’s heard all day. “You know, I’m a very important superhero! I don't have time to be flirted with, I take care of crime stuff!”

“Crime stuff, like saving cats from trees and ramming into the backs of box trucks?” Jaemin says, voice full of laughter. His smile leaves Mark slightly breathless. 

“You don't even know what I look like under the mask,” Mark says after he's gotten his breath back. “I could be super ugly and totally not your type.” He crosses his arms over his chest, like that'll prove something. 

“You wound me, thinking I’m so shallow,” Jaemin responds, hand going over his chest in mock offense. “Why _ don't _you ever take off the mask?” he says, head cocking to the side. “There are plenty of other superheroes who don't care if the public knows what they look like.”

“I'm living my Hannah Montana esque double life,” Mark says with a laugh, trying to brush over it. 

Jaemin doesn't take the bait, frowning slightly. Mark decides he _ hates _ that look on him. “No, really, like _ why,” _ he questions. “I mean, sorry if it's a sensitive thing but I really am curious.”

Mark pauses, and then sighs. He takes a seat, having been standing up until that moment, and tucks his legs up under himself. He's quiet for a little bit, and then says, “You really want to know?” At the answering nod from Jaemin, Mark starts. “Well, I got bit when i was like, 16, yeah? I was just this nerd going to school like normal when I just _ happened _ to be bitten by a radioactive spider and got all these weird powers. At first I rejected it because I was _ terrified _ . I don't know if you know but there's no handbook titled ‘ _ What to Do if You Become Spiderman’ _ .” Mark pauses to laugh at his own joke, shaking his head slightly. “But I still had this sense of like, I should use this for _ good _ , even if I was scared. So the suit happened, because it made me feel like I wasn't _ me, _ not really. I didn't have to reject it in the suit, and then I could just take it off and forget about it while I was at school and stuff,” he says, pausing to take a deep breath. “And now that I’m older, I actually _ like _ the Spiderman stuff, but I like the privacy too- that I can go out in public without the suit and no one bothers me. it's just- nice, I guess.”

Jaemin hums, and then falls quiet. Eventually he stands up, leaving Mark the only one sitting, and smiles down at him. “Well, it was nice talking to you, Spiderman,” he says. 

Mark gapes, completely at a loss. “You just unlocked the ‘tragic backstory’ option and you're _ leaving? _ What the _ fuck, _Jaemin?” he says incredulously, standing up and shoving his hands on his hips like an annoyed mother waiting for the manager. He doesn't realize what he's said until Jaemin is pausing, turning his head and looking at him strangely. 

“I've never told you my name,” he says slowly, raising an eyebrow. There's a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, like he's thoroughly amused by everything Mark does.

Mark freezes, hands dropping from his hips to wave frantically in front of his face. “I’m not a creep, I swear! I was uh- at a coffee shop, when I saw you. And they called your name. I swear I didn't stalk you!” he rushes out, frowning at how _ weird _that sounds. 

“I think I would've noticed Spiderman in a coffee shop,” Jaemin says, and at this point Mark is convinced he's seriously being messed with.

“Well I wasn't in the suit, obviously. I was with my friend, having coffee like two normal people. I don't go there regularly but honestly, can I just say that place is too overpriced? Not a fan.”

Jaemin laughs, then hums in contemplation, shrugging. “Well, I won't bother asking where you were sitting or anything. I’d probably remember two non-regulars but you're dedicated to anonymity and I’m not a stalker, either.”

Mark is overcome with a feeling of _ want _ suddenly, want for Jaemin to ask, _ want _ for Jaemin to find out what he looks like, who he is. Want for Jaemin to just- _ care _ about him. He's never felt like this over someone before, but suddenly he just _ wants. _

“I really do have to go, though,” Jaemin says, frowning slightly as he checks his watch, effectively snapping Mark out of his thoughts. “See you around?” he asks, and he sounds almost- _ hopeful? _

“Yeah, yeah of course! Always patrolling the streets, always watching, you know me. Friendly neighb-”

“-orhood Spiderman. Right, right,” Jaemin interrupts, and he's back to smiling again. Mark thinks he’s never going to get over how _ nice _ he looks when he smiles. It's breathtaking, heart-stopping, or maybe Mark is just invested. 

They say their goodbyes and then Jaemin’s off, leaving Mark alone in the middle of the park. He can't tell if he's getting closer to Jaemin, if there's something _ there, _or if it's all in his head. 

He spends the rest of the day swinging through the city, and distinctly tries _ not _ to think about heart stopping smiles. 

+

Mark thinks that the hypothetical moon shining on his enemies is _ bullshit _ , but alas here he is at 3am, watching robbers with- _ gun swords? _ hack away at an ATM. 

He sighs heavily from across the street and makes his way over, pushing open the door to the bank as quietly as he can. “Hey fellas, watcha doin’?” he says once he's inside, arms crossed over his chest in an unimpressed stance. 

One of the robbers jumps, whipping around and cursing. He raises his gun-sword-_ thing _ in defense and Mark easily webs it up, pulling it out of the man's grasp and onto his own side. Mark sighs again, and taps his foot. 

“Really? Webs, dude, I have webs. Gonna need some shooty things,” Mark says, kicking the gun sword off to the side. Apparently, it chooses _ then _ to fire, effectively making a hole in the opposite wall. Mark jumps, attaching himself to the wall behind him, and groans. “So they _ are _ shooty things. Extraordinary.” 

The second robber turns around and fires, but his aim is off and he hits the wall next to where Mark is. Mark can't help the snicker he lets out, shooting a web directly at the weapon. The man fires again, looking angry, and it cuts through the webs. Mark jumps to the side to get away, and shoots a few more webs in the process. 

Okay, so, gun swords can shoot through webs. Not great, but not awful. 

And _ because _ the universe seems to be against him lately, someone chooses _ that _ moment to yell _ “hey Spiderman!” _ from across the street. Mark freezes, head whipping around and heart rate speeding up. He knows that voice. He _ knows _ that voice and he absolutely _ cannot _ be here right now. 

“Oh, what the fuck,” Mark hisses out, going back to looking at the robbers who are still distracted. He tries his luck at webbing up the weapon again, pulling it away from the robber before he can fire it, throwing it out the hole in the wall easily. The police could deal with recovering it _ later. _

He sees Jaemin walk closer to the bank, and really wants to scream in frustration. “You know, buddy, now's not the time!” he yells instead, shooting a few webs at the robbers who are trying to flee now that they have no weapons. They fall to the ground and Mark drags them to the corner despite their protests, webbing them up more so they're stuck against the wall and can't escape. 

Mark turns to Jaemin, who has made his way over to the front of the bank by now and is staring at Mark expectantly. Mark pushes open the door, leaning against it so he can still get a good shot on the robbers if he has to. 

“What the _ fuck?” _Mark starts with, crossing his arms over his chest. He feels anger well up, and for the second time that night, he wants to scream. 

“So this is the real crime stuff you do, huh,” Jaemin says, like he can't tell Mark is mad or rather, he doesn't care. “Pretty cool.”

“_ Yes, _ this is the real crime stuff I do,” Mark hisses out, eyes flicking back and forth between the robbers and Jaemin. He knows the robbers are listening. “Pretty cool? _ Pretty cool? Are you serious?” _

“Yes? Why are you so mad,” Jaemin responds, looking confused, and Mark realizes he _ really _doesn't get it. 

“These guys had weapons that could cut through my _ webs. _ My webs! God knows what would've happened if _ you _ got shot with it!” he practically yells. He hears one of the robbers mumble a _ ‘lovers quarrel,’ _ and Mark immediately shoots webs over his mouth in annoyance. “Shut the _ fuck _ up,” he tells the robber, turning back to Jaemin. 

“I didn't…”

“Know! You didn't know! Which is why what you did was the stupidest_ thing I’ve ever seen _ !” Mark interrupts, huffing angrily. “You know, I know it's easy to treat me as a joke and like I don't do anything important for the city. I get it. I’m just friendly neighborhood Spiderman who runs into box trucks and saves cats, right? But I'm not a joke, I’m _ not.” _

“I don't think-”

“Yes, you do. You think I'm a joke. It's painfully obvious with the way you _ flirt _ with me, and the way you _ interrupt _me, and the way you treat me like all I'm good for is being an idiot!”

Jaemin stays quiet, mouth pitched down in a frown. Mark takes that moment to call the police, alerting them of what just happened, voice slightly more annoyed than he meant for it to be. He steps out onto the street, letting the bank door close behind him, and sighs. 

“Listen. I’m sorry for being harsh but just- stop, alright? We both know you wouldn't care about me under the mask, I'm just some novelty to you. Like _ ooh, I got Spiderman! into my bed _ , _ what’d you do? _ It happens all the time,” Mark says, and he regrets the words the second he sees Jaemin’s face. The boy looks _ hurt _ , like he didn't expect Mark to say _ any _ of that and Mark instantly feels sick. 

The police choose that moment to show up (actually fast, for once), rushing out of their vehicles and looking at Mark in expectation. He sighs, moving away from Jaemin and explains what happened, even down to the weapons. He distinctly tries not to think about the look on Jaemin's face moments prior. 

By the time he's done debriefing, Jaemin is gone and Mark feels like crying. 

If he _ does _cry when he gets home, when he's out of the suit and tucked into bed as the sun starts to rise, there's no one with him to call him out. 

+

Mark figures he deserves the influx of shitty, desperate, overwhelming emotions after his latest (and most likely last, he realizes with a frown) encounter with Jaemin.

He knows he has every right to feel what he does, but that doesn’t mean the guilt isn’t consuming him from the inside out. Everything fuckin' _hurts _and he’s just so goddamn lonely.

He figures he deserves it as he lays down in the dirty alleyway, getting the shit beat out of him. He knew the moment when someone grabbed his wrist that he would be going down, and in a normal instance he would’ve just webbed away, but he hurts. He hurts and he hasn’t slept properly in what seems like weeks, and if getting beat up is the best distraction from thinking about Jaemin, then maybe this friendly neighborhood Spiderman is allowed his few bad days.

It's only when one attempts to claw the mask off his face that he pulls himself up, blearily trying to get away with disoriented vision, webbing up to a roof with a very pretty garden. A boy sits on the bench, and Mark doesn’t have any time to look at him before he blacks out on the burning hot pavement.

When Mark wakes up, there's something soft underneath him and his mouth feels like cotton. He feels distinctly- _ exposed _, but he doesn't open his eyes to try and figure out why. He lays there in a content haze for a few minutes, trying to piece together where he may be, but ultimately unconcerned. If he was kidnapped, well. He figures he’d be tied down and way less comfortable or something. 

When he finally _ does _ open his eyes, it's to Jaemin staring at him from across the living room, and Mark jumps, hand immediately flying to his chest in shock. 

Jaemin can see the second Mark realizes he's not in the suit in perfect clarity. He pauses, hand still on his chest, eyes going wider in realization, and then he looks down. Looks down at his bare chest, covered in a blanket. He looks back up at Jaemin, panic written all over his face, and manages to choke out a _ ‘why am i out of the suit?’ _

“You. Uh. When you blacked out, you woke up for a few minutes and tried to get it off yourself. We were on the roof so really, no one would've seen but I- I didn't want to risk that for you so I brought you here,” he says softly, guiltily, like he _ pulled _ Mark out of the suit. Even if Mark _ didn't _ remember (it seems like a dream, hazy and uncoordinated, but he distinctly _ does _ remember once Jaemin reminds him) he wouldn't bank on Jaemin doing that. 

Mark doesn't know what to say. He knows a million people would've done the exact opposite, ones who would've taken off the suit and sold his face to the tabloids. Mark doesn't realize he's halfway to hyperventilating until Jaemin is crouched in front of him, arms awkwardly waving around to try and figure out where to land. 

“You need to _ breathe _ ,” Jaemin whispers softly, a hesitant hand falling on Marks shoulder. “I’m sorry, in case I did something to offend you, but right now you need to breathe.” Mark’s mouth opens as if to take a breath, but it's ultimately fruitless as _ something _ climbs up his throat. It's very uncomfortable and he thinks he might throw up. “Hey, Spiderman, focus on me.” Jaemin tries again, thumb rubbing in absent minded circles on Mark’s shoulder. 

“Mark,” he manages to croak out, feeling dizzy and out of it but _ needing _ Jaemin to know his name. He tries to get out a full sentence, but only gets as far as “my name-” before he's taking a gasping breath, feeling like he can't get enough air in. 

“Alright, Mark, breathe with me,” Jaemin says softly, hand shifting down to the center of Mark's chest. He's warm- _ really _warm, but there's no time to focus on that now, Jaemin tells himself. He's got a hyperventilating superhero to deal with. He takes a deep breath in, making it loud enough so Mark can hear it, and lets it out slowly. On the next inhale he can feel Mark’s chest expand, trying to mimic Jaemin’s breaths. “Good, that's good,” Jaemin encourages, ducking his head a little so he can smile up at Mark. 

They continue on like that until Mark’s breathing comes naturally and the boy slumps against the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. He looks smaller like that, younger. Defeated. Jaemin watches Mark as his eyes rake over the room, at the open layout and simple decor. It seems very- _ Jaemin, _even if Mark barely knows him outside of the few times they've had conversations. 

And even _ with _ those few times, Mark knows Jaemin is so _ kind, _ and it baffles him as to _ why _ . How Jaemin can sit there and not be annoyed with him like everyone else (he hasn't been the best at communicating lately), how even after what Mark said he still watches him with a soft smile and open face. How there's been no mention of that one night weeks ago, nor any awkwardness from the man to suggest it even happened. The only thing reminding _ Mark _ it even happened is the low simmering guilt he feels and the lingering exhaustion from weeks spent not taking care of himself. 

Jaemin gets up and wanders into the kitchen, and Mark speaks before he can stop himself. 

“So like, what's the deal?” he says, freezing up when it registers what discussion he possibly just started. Jaemin tenses minutely from where he's reaching for a glass in the cabinet. “Like, helping me out when I practically yelled at you last time I saw you. People don’t normally do that,” Mark continues, because apparently his fucking brain to mouth filter is _ broken. _

Jaemin sighs, filling up the glass with water, before walking back over to where Mark is and offering the glass to him. he sits down once Mark has taken the glass from his hand and lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head slightly as if to clear a thought. 

“You know, for someone who Wikipedia describes as a genius, you're quite dense,” Jaemin says eventually, leaning back and getting comfortable in the chair across from the couch. He smiles, so Mark knows it's more of a joke than an insult, and Mark takes a sip of water to distract himself from the emotions he's feeling. That stupid _ smile. _

Jaemin doesn't seem like he’s going to continue his thought, and Mark doesn't really know how to respond, so they sit in silence for a while. Or rather, Mark stays quiet while the thoughts inside his head rage around and Jaemin stares at him with that stupid soft smile and open look again. That's when it hits Mark. 

“Holy fuck, you really care about me,” is bursting out of his mouth before he can formulate it to sound better, sound less childish. “Like actually, truly do, and not just because I’m Spiderman.”

“And _ there's _ the genius everyone's always talking about,” Jaemin says, voice full of laughter. He looks pleased, content, not at all sheepish or embarrassed. 

“But you don't even _ know _ me! You _ just _learned my name twenty minutes ago!” 

“And I’m also learning Spiderman and Mark aren't all that different, and when you've talked to Spiderman a few times, well. It's hard not to care,” Jaemin says. A smile spreads over his face slowly and Mark dreads what's about to leave Jaemin’s mouth next. “Especially when he runs into box trucks and accuses you of flirting within the first two minutes of meeting him.”

Mark groans loudly, covering his face with a hand and shaking it slightly. he’s never going to live that down, _ ever. _ Mark suddenly remembers he's distinctly only in his _ boxers _, around the same time Jaemin seems to remember, too. 

“Do you want to borrow-”

“I should get going-”

They pause, staring at each other for a few seconds before both bursting into giggles. 

“You don't have to go,” Jaemin says, like he truly doesn't want Mark to leave, and isn’t just saying it to be nice.

“I should, I have somewhere to be in a little bit,” Mark says regretfully. He bites his lip, debating on whether or not to say what he wants to before thinking _ fuck it _, and says it anyway. “But… we can hangout again?” He doesn't mean for it to come out a question, but it does anyway and he fights back a cringe at how awkward he sounds to his own ears. Jaemin doesn't answer for a beat, making Mark think he's gotten this all horribly wrong. “Unless you don't want-”

“No! I mean, no, I’d love to! Sorry, my brain just kinda,” Jaemin waves a hand as if to explain. “Never thought Spiderman would want to hangout with _ me.” _

“Well. Spiderman wants to hangout with you and Mark _ definitely _wants to hangout with you, so,” Mark responds, reaching for the suit that's folded neatly over the back of the couch. He cocks his head slightly in thought, and looks as if he's debating something before asking, “Can I borrow clothes, actually? Don’t feel like dealing with the whole Spiderman thing right now.” 

“I- um, yes. Yes, you totally can do that,” Jaemin responds, looking caught off guard like he wasn't the one about to offer Mark his clothes ten seconds ago. He gets up, going to where his room presumably is, and Mark slips on the suit minus the mask just so he doesn't have to carry it. Jaemin comes back out with a hoodie in one hand and jeans in the other, mumbling something about being thankful people leave clothes at his house. “Here, these should fit. The hoodie’s mine but the pants, I have… no idea where they came from,” Jaemin rambles on, like he can't make himself shut up. Mark smiles at him as he slips the hoodie over his head. 

It doesn't take long before Mark is saying his goodbyes, discreetly slipping his number into Jaemin’s pocket on his way past him and just hoping the man finds it. He knows he was bold enough to say he wanted to hangout with Jaemin, but actually asking for his number? Not a chance. 

He spends the walk back to his apartment in a better mood than he's been in for weeks, despite the fact he technically just got his identity exposed to someone he barely knows. He trusts Jaemin, even if he _ does _barely know him, and he just hopes the boy won't give him a reason to regret that. 

+

The next time Mark sees Jaemin, it's nearly a month later. 

It's neither one of their faults, really. They'd been texting regularly (Jaemin _ did _ find Mark's number tucked into his pocket the day he left the boy’s apartment, and texted him that night) but both were so busy lately it was almost impossible to keep plans and stick to them. Turns out crime really amps up as it gets warmer, as does work at normal people jobs. 

So, the next time they see each other, they're both so exhausted from running around they don't do much else but stretch out on the couch in Mark’s small apartment and watch baking shows. Mark’s wearing the hoodie Jaemin lent him last time, and Jaemin can't stop _ staring _ at him. Mark doesn't get why, it's not like he looks _ nice _or anything. He barely even looks presentable. Plus, there's a scratch going down half his face where someone managed to rip his mask earlier in the week. Overall, he's a mess. 

Jaemin, on the other hand, looks _ good. _He's dressed down like Mark is, but he’s actually pulling it off. The longer Mark watches him out of the corner of his eye, the slower his blinks become, and something warm blooms in him. 

“You can sleep if you want,” slips out of Mark’s mouth, quieter and softer around the edges than he meant for it to be. He’s feeling sleepy himself, calm washing over him in waves, contentment making a home in his chest. He feels safe, warm, just happy to be spending time with Jaemin even if they're not doing anything. 

Part of him wishes this was a constant, that they could be something _ more _ so this could happen every day. 

But he's sure Jaemin wouldn't feel the same, not really anyway. He's _ maybe _ hinted at it, but it just seems like Jaemin’s nature to act like he does. 

“You gonna?” Jaemin responds, snapping Mark out of his thoughts. Mark debates for a second, before deciding he actually _ is _ tired, and he nods. Jaemin gives him a soft smile and gets comfortable at the same time as Mark. Jaemin’s got himself stretched out diagonally, legs propped up on the coffee table, while Mark is curled up with his legs on the couch close to himself. Before he drifts off, he vaguely registers Jaemin turning down the volume on the TV, and a pang of domesticity hits him. 

He wakes up a while later, mouth cottony and extremely warm. He leaves his eyes closed for a bit, just reveling in the half sleep he's in. That's when he feels a thumb rubbing over his ankle, and registers his legs have ended up in Jaemin’s lap. Jaemin, who’s still here, who's awake, who Mark shoved his legs on sometime while he was sleeping. Mark feels his face heat, but he opens his eyes anyway and mumbles out a somewhat coherent hello. Jaemin smiles at him, all sleep soft and gentle, and Mark feels butterflies erupt. This is _ too much. _

“Sleep good?” Jaemin asks, making no move to stop tracing patterns into Mark’s ankle. Mark nods rubbing one eye to try and clear the sleep blurriness. “You talk in your sleep, you know,” Jaemin says, voice amused but not making fun of him. 

“I know,” Mark says around a yawn, always being slow to wake up no matter how old he gets. “Have been since I was little. Hope I didn't say anything embarrassing though.”

“Nah, don't worry. It was mostly incoherent. Cute, though,” Jaemin says casually, like he didn't just make Mark’s heart stutter. His thumb pauses its movements while he says it, before picking back up again, albeit more hesitantly. It's like Jaemin has something he wants to say, but is mulling it over before speaking. 

It doesn't take Mark long to find out what he wants to say. 

“Forgive me if I’m wrong but- but is this like… a thing? Like, do we have a thing here?” Jaemin asks, voice smaller than usual. it doesn't seem like he realizes, though. 

“A thing,” Mark echoes, eyes flicking over to Jaemin, then back to the TV. 

“Yeah, like a… a you like me, I like you thing,” Jaemin responds, looking like he's internally cringing at his own word choices. “I sound like a high schooler, Christ. Do you like me, is what I mean,” he says after a beat, sounding more determined. 

“Yes,” Mark responds, maybe a little too quickly. When Jaemin just stares at him, Mark blinks and says, “I like you, Jaemin. Like a lot.”

“Oh. Sweet,” Jaemin responds, looking genuinely happy. “So like, I can kiss you now,” he says, staring at Mark expectantly. 

Mark laughs, and Jaemin lights up with it, like he loves hearing the sound. “Yes, you can kiss me,” Mark says, sitting up so Jaemin can reach him easier. It's a soft kiss, one that can barely qualify as a kiss, but it makes Mark feel warm regardless. It's the happiest he's been in a while.

If they spend the rest of the day trading lazy kisses while the TV plays softly in the background, well, that's no one's business but their own.

+

"How do we... get down?" Jaemin asks, peeking over the edge of the building precariously.

"The same way we got up," Mark responds, opening the pizza box and shoving a piece towards Jaemin without saying a word. Jaemin takes it, still staring over the edge like he's about to fall any second (he won't, they're sitting a foot back from the edge despite Mark's protests that it's not _ fun _ like that).

"So we're just gonna... swing down? And you won't drop me?" Jaemin says, voice full of nervous energy despite him shoving half the slice of pizza in his mouth. The sun is setting, and it's highlighting the contours of Jaemin's face, making him look like he's glowing in the sun.

"Well, did I drop you on the way _ up? _" Mark asks, amused. Jaemin had never swung with him before, and Mark couldn't ignore how his face lit up with curiosity every time he watched Mark swing from building to building.

"Well... no," Jaemin says slowly, reaching for another slice in the process. He'd panicked the entire way up, holding onto Mark like his life depended on it (and really, Mark would've never let him fall. He's carried people way heavier than Jaemin before, and it went absolutely swimmingly). "But, what if the downwards momentum makes me like, slip. And I just fall."

"Never happened before," Mark responds, wiping the corner of Jaemin's mouth when he spots crumbs there. Jaemin gives him a happy smile in response.

"What, so you're saying I'm _ not _ your first, Mark Lee? I'm offended," Jaemin says, cheeky smile gracing his features. Mark rolls his eyes, reaching out to pinch Jaemin's side. Jaemin retaliates with a pinch of his own, and then they're battling in pinches, pizza momentarily forgotten.

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry you're not my first!" Mark says through giggles, when Jaemin has him pinned down to the building's roof, knees on either side of Mark's hips. "If it makes you feel better, you've been my most _ important _," he assures him, looking up at Jaemin sincerely.

Jaemin blushes at that, still not used to Mark saying things like that so casually. Mark leans up slightly, just enough so he can peck Jaemin's lips, and smiles softly.

"Good date?" Mark asks softly, not wanting to ruin whatever moment had fallen around them.

"Best," Jaemin responds just as soft, smile blinding. 

Mark would do anything in the _ world _ to continue seeing that expression on his face, for as long as he possibly could.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading :D


End file.
